Fair Play at the Fair Grounds

I'm a dutiful Democrat this week, watching every minute of the DNC convention followed by 2 hours of hot-headed pundits spin their views. I would have preferred to post a donkey snapshot (in recognition of my democratic support) but rather this farm animal will have to suffice.

It's a stud Merino ram on exhibit at the New York State Fairgrounds in Syracuse. Dad, his wife and I popped over on Wednesday. We haven't been to the State Fair in 25 years but for a $6 entrance fee where else can you get an early look at a car that goes 100-mpg or tiny monkey jockeys race on the backs of loveable dogs or a giant sand sculpture carved out of 100-tons of sand.

Go hungry before you arrive because you'll never ever see so many concession stands with so many unlimited international foods. With an empty belly you can enjoy a little Greek, Asian and American and then walk it off in the agriculture and carriage museums, the petting zoo and the Indian/Iroquois Village.



Or, as Carol remembers it from 40 years ago, walk through a hollowed out Redwood tree called “Allen’s Original Redwood Log House” with a bedroom, living room and kitchen. Back in the 1950s, Allen actually lived inside it for many years.

There were were no elephants on exhibit on Wednesday and not to insult the pigs on display, I'll end this blog with a photo for the Republicans. I snapped this while leaving the Fairgrounds.

Staying Young at 88 Years

88-year old Bruno lives just across the street from Dad and Uncle Wayne in a small camp by the Grass river. He vacations in Northern NY in the summer and like all good retired seniors he watches the neighborhood like a hawk and squawks loudly when strangers are in town.

Bruno found me meddling with more faulty camera parts in my Uncle's work shed before dusk. Immediately, my interest turned to this colorful character with a memory like a steel trap and more energy than an Italian stallion half his age.

From the time Bruno was born he found his calling in the deep woods; climbing, skiing, trekking, hunting and snowshoeing. At 18 yrs. he joined the 87th Mountain Infantry Regiment with a specialized skiing unit that was the first to be deployed in Italy (his native country) during WWII. Because of his deft mountaineering experience and love of the language he and his buddies helped defeat the Fascist party.

Many moons later, at 76 years he set his sights on climbing all 46 High Peaks in the Adirondacks. In less than 2 years he conquered them all with the greatest of ease. He's the living, breathing embodiment of Charles Atlas, a Soprano product as well.

Today, Coke cans and story-telling keeps him alert and mindful of his glory days as a chemical engineer and life-long adventurist. Reworking recyclables into simulated-to-scale bi-planes, just for amusement, even caught the eye of the President of the Coca-Cola company. This artful creation will be sitting on the CEO's desk come late next week.

Despite his new sedentary hobby, there's still no end to Bruno's athleticism. Every morning, regardless of the temperature, he swims back and forth from bank to bank along the Grass river to keep the blood flowing. Only a fool would dare to challenge him to climb Mount Everest.

Fix It Like Father

Call him frugal, inventive or resourceful but there are few in this world that can make a better mousetrap than my Dad. Here's a shot of his latest 'red-neck' invention.

Attracted to the smell of peanut butter, the mouse makes his way up the launch, hops onto a soda can coated in Jiff, spins widly and then slips into a pail of cold water, drowning to death in minutes. This machiavellian machine can drown up to 8 or 9 dirty rats in a matter of a few days. In the winter, a little antifreeze is added with the water and voila, the pesty rodents continue to drown rather than slip and slide to death on ice.

Dad has always concocted contraptions that work better than the real thing - his brother Wayne is no different. They live a stone's throw from each other in God's country, Northern New York. Across from their singlewides, a beautiful winding river called the Grass overflows with Sturgeons the size of a small Pinto. When the two of them aren't tampering with antiques and car parts they're out fishing off the dock or canoeing the river.


Both are restless souls that stay busy re-tooling old car parts into useable tractors, lawnmowers and go-carts. There's nothing they can't fix, mend or patch and they love a challenge, so when I visit, like I am now, I haul up broken equipment and house furniture for their expertise. Dad's out in the garage looking for his sautering iron to fix a split wire on my Frezzi light as I write this.

A Bibliophiles Book Barn

Premium leather bound books enhance any collection, especially for my City Slicker friend, Doane, in his dusty Manhattan crib. His shelves showcase a number of Greek philosopher favorites like Plato, Aristotle and Socrates. But, City Slicker has nothing on "The Book Barn," a unique bookstore stuffed to the rafters with a treasure trove of 300,000 used and rare books - none of which are paperback.

On assignment in the bucolic countryside of Brandywine Valley, Pennsylvania since Wednesday, I discovered this charming attraction first online. The 5-story bookstore is called Baldwin's Book Barn and the store is housed in a rustic stone milking barn built in 1822 by a Quaker couple named Brinton and Sarah Darlington. The current owners have done a remarkable job preserving the antiquated editions and antique collections while obligatory cats lounge around the wood-burning stove and patrol the narrow reading aisles.

The Book Barn makes The Library of Congress blush with embarrassment for their lack of selection. Literally, every subject under their wooden beams can be found here, including a floor devoted to world travel and history. This is definitely a must-see big ticket attraction when visiting West Chester, Pennsylvania.

A Rennaissance in Jersey City

A 5-bedroom penthouse suite atop Liberty Towers in Jersey City will run you $5000 a month but look it the views you get! 360 degrees of Manhattan from Midtown to the Statue of Liberty to Ellis Island and then facing west towards New Jersey.

There's a 9th floor outdoor pool accommodating the rich and famous while foreign Au pairs rock baby Richie to sleep stretched out on lawn chairs reeking of Tropical Sun. This is living at it's finest and yours truly is doing double duty in Jersey City this week videotaping the better parts of this up-and-coming district.

Sheldon, manager of Liberty Towers, says it's the "Sixth Borough" right after Staten Island. After years of abandoned boarded-up businesses and run-away crack houses, most of the eyesores have been replaced with affordable brownstones in a clean and safe neighborhood.

The PATH Transit train makes stops at the front door of Liberty Towers and behind the building there's a beautiful boardwalk along the Hudson shoreline where vendors sell coated peanuts, fried food and hotdogs. Just a few miles up the road is the Liberty Science Center, an interactive science museum with the world's largest IMAX Dome theater.

Some argue that progress is moving too quickly, replacing historical old warehouses with mega-developer skyscrapers. Cobblestone streets are being swallowed up by hot pavement and tear-downs of houses over 150 years old or 19th century Victorian style mansions fly in the face of conservation opposition.

Cross That Bridge

With bumper-to-bumper traffic around the clock, the George Washington Bridge is one of the busiest in the world. It spans the Hudson river connecting Washington Heights, NY with Fort Lee, New Jersey with 2 decks of traffic, an upper and lower.

To avoid big rigs I usually travel the Taconic Parkway but the Palisades is far better for views of Manhattan and the GW. The Palisades Interstate Park, also called the Fort Lee Historical Center, is where you'll find over 2 miles of walking trails and benches overlooking the 4th largest suspension bridge in the U.S.

The Palisades is also passenger cars only, and far more rural and aesthetically pleasing, says my City Slicker.

On holidays and the 9/11 anniversary, a 450-pound American flag, the largest in the world, hangs vertically atop the Jersey side steel arch. It's most impressive.

Gossip Girl Goes to College

Morningside Heights on the Upper West side of Manhattan is known as "Academia Acropolis" and now I know why. It's teaming with colleges and institutions like Columbia, Barnard, Teachers College, the Manhattan School of Music, Bank Street College of Education and many more a short block away, like City College.

Today was a fun assignment bolstered by a lack of not having to wear an awkward Glidecam. With a small HDV camera and tripod in tow I shot some of the colleges mentioned above including the campus of one of the oldest universities in the nation, Columbia University. This Ivy league campus dates back to 1754 and it shows in their architecture and Latin subtext.

Then I rounded a corner and noticed an all too familiar sight; a large camera crew calling out directives like: "Quiet on the set!" - "Audio ready?" - "Roll cameras!"
But rather than producing a pilot for PBS, these DGA, SAG and high-paid union members were in the midst of shooting an episode of the highly successful "Gossip Girl."



I'm no fan of the show but dozens of freshmen girls cut class to appear as extras and feed on quick glimpses of the lead actors. Rather, I gawked at the giant pool of expensive equipment and team of professional lighting techs. But, surprise, surprise... no Glide or Steadycam operator. Wonder if they need a PilotGirl?

Movie-Making in Central New York

After hours of staging 20 blue locker props, lighting fixtures, bounce cards, actor makeup, Glidecam retakes and audio delays, the Syracuse gig finally wrapped Saturday. Whew! What an ordeal. Making a national television pilot for junior-high age kids is no easy task, especially when so much is riding on the success of this first episode.

Between 2 cameras, we shot enough tape footage to stretch to the moon and back so the true challenge comes down to editing. With multiple camera angles and b-roll to pick from, the editor truly has his work cut out for him. Then, there's the music bed, sound sweetening, a laugh track, special effects, credits and the open montage to work through; easily, a 6-month effort for 28 minutes of show time on PBS.

If the critics like what they see then "Eureka!" (a line from the script) the show hits the road for another 13 to 21 follow-up episodes. When that happens, hopefully, fingers-crossed, I too will be called on again for my Glidecam camera prowess.

In the meantime, I've got 24 hours to mend an aching back, message my sore feet and Bandaid a few cuts to my hips caused by my suit of armor. Then, it's back to the Big Apple on Monday, followed by Jersey on Tuesday and Wednesday and finally Philly by Friday. No worries though - Patti Smith, Dylan and Deathcab will keep the wheels in motion.

Glidecam Girl Endures Bumps and Bruises

This is Lisa, my fabulous grip girl for the week. She's helped shadow me with a 500 foot BNC cable tethered to my camera, wrapping and unwrapping the kinky coil like a mad clockmaker winding a thousand coo-coo's on the hour. It's been a grueling 6 day work schedule, up by dawn, 12-hour days and to bed at dusk.

I've been hired as a Glidecam operator with an extension arm, camera and support brace that weighs is excess of 18 pounds and rests uneasily around the waist, back and chest. It's far lighter than a Hollywood Steadycam but still a monster to tote around and impossible to rip off when I find a sliver of time for the little girl's room.

The pilot program I'm shooting is well-written, comical, educational and filled with a cast of professional character actors from New York City. The production crew are no different; smart, witty and ambitious. Besides Irish born funny man Jimbo; Joe, Walt, Don, and Henry are a Syracuse native lot that have helped me feel welcome on their turf.

It's been fun but I'm counting down the days as well as the number of black and blue marks I've earned on this assignment. I think of the bumps and bruises as a 'badge of honor' for a job well done.

A Lake in Crisis

"Might there be a beach or maybe a resort town nearby?" I asked. Of all the times I had been to Syracuse, NY, this was the first time I was noticing how close it was to a surprisingly large body of water.

"Are you kidding? This is one of the most severely polluted lakes in the world!" responded the Chief Lighting Director.

I'm on assignment in the middle of New York State this week, home of the champion Syracuse Orangemen, the historic Landmark Theater, delicious Dinosaur Barbeque and a shopping mecca called Carousel Center. But none of the shooting locations are close to these attractions but rather near a deceivingly large, beautiful blue body of fresh water called Onondaga Lake.

Tragically, industrial dumping and leakage into the lake has destroyed the native vegetation with high concentrations of mercury, ammonium and dangerous chemical toxins. Nobody swims or fished the lake (or has in decades) and only recently have efforts and monies been provided to clean it up.

The Lighting Director continued to warn me of this smelly algea-infested cesspool.

At one time,when the Syracuse University rowing team practiced here, they were strictly forbidden to swim in the lake and splash one another. Extra effort was made not to get wet while rowing. Even a few minor droplets from the lake were once reason enough for hasmat crews to spray down the rowers when they came ashore. These are the incredulous stories I was told as well fish caught with mammoth growths or tumors attached to their scales.

Lake Onandoga is an expensive blight on the area and that's really unfortunate because, by the look of Armory Square, there's a lively unique downtown district with galleries, cafes, museums and pubs that could really benefit by tourism. Hopefully, in time...

Rocco - the Rabbit Retriever

Rocco loves tennis balls, swimming in the Normanskill and deep tissue scratches behind his ears and hind legs. He chases garbage trucks, growls at children under 3 feet and whines softly in his sleep. Tonight, at 4am, just like a cat, he proudly returned home with a helpless surprise bound tightly in his wet jowls.

The victim looked more like a drowned rat than a defenseless bunny. It lay loose and quiet trapped inside Rocco's powerful muzzle. It wasn't bleeding but a small square of fur had been stripped clean from it's soft coat. Rocco's tail was wagging like wipers at full speed in a storm. His eyes gleamed with pride, hoping for a treat in return for saving the front yard from this menacing intruder.

Rather, I was slightly sickened. Any gardener, whose burning bushes and garden vegetation are devoured daily by reproducing rodents, would be happy to see a rabbit expire on their front door step but at 4 inches in length and barely breathing, it wasn't that satisfying.

I pried open Rocco's powerful puss and demanded he drop the loot. For a couple of seconds it lay trembling in fear, it's saliva-soaked brown fur leaving a wee little imprint on the cold concrete. Rocco feigned interest and sat waiting for a milkbone treat. There would be no treat.

Should I kill the creature and put it out of it's misery, I thought. I contemplated if a whack from a shovel would do the trick. Dazed and confused, the 2 ounce lump of soiled fur rolled to the edge of the porch, down onto a soft bed of hydrangea pedals that cushioned its fall, and out of sight. It was injured but it escaped death, if only temporarily.

My pill-popping pet (glucosamine and antibiotics are his favorites) will be let out again at 4am, maybe even tonight, and despite humanization efforts by some owners, there's truly nothing anybody can do to stop a dog from being a dog.

This Old Barn

Antique barns restored for luxury living would make for a fantastic subject in a monthly magazine. There are hundreds of historical barns in New York State alone, many preserved as community landmarks while others are dismantled for their lumber.

However, this barn, located in northern Pennsylvania, did not have to face the wrecking ball but rather was refitted with a new rock silo, several windows, post and beam refinishing, incredible landscaping and an Adirondack-style gate.

I'm not sure who lives inside but, no doubt, they're artists of extraordinary talent and tender to save and rehabilitate this wonderful American treasure.

Pride of New York: Spiedies

IBM, Endicott and Crowley, what do all 3 have in common? If your where I'm from then you used their computers, wore their shoes and drank their milk, but I was raised a very long way from Binghamton, NY.

Yes, Binghamton, NY are where all 3 including carnival carousels, Rodd Serling and Giant markets cut their teeth. This historical city on the Pennsylvania border is not mine but rather the hometown of 'City Slicker', my blond-haired, blue-eyed, WASPY new friend, Doane.

This weekend, Doane also introduced me to another Binghamton original - Spiedies. Spiedies are a mouthwatering delicacy that includes marinating meat like poultry, beef, lamb or pork on a skewer (or not) over an open flame (or not) and wrapping a few bits and pieces inside a flimsy piece of Italian bread. Nothing more than that; simple but sumptuous.

Doane and Doane Sr. cooked up a hardy portion of this tasty treat topped off with a fantastic homegrown Riesling that could bring a German vintner to his knees, for dinner yesterday. We sat in a kitchen overlooking Binghamton's best kept recreational secret, Quaker Lake. Retired homeowners have replaced seasonal camps and small docks with paved driveways and year-round vistas.

A tight-knit community of about 50 families orbit the banks of Quaker Lake, some with party barges others with canoes and row boats. Speed boats and jet skies are forbidden allowing for undisturbed wildlife like ducks, geese and even beaver to swim the shores. Tennis matches, shopping for scented soap at the Sea Hag and sharing recipes keep this community busy during the summer. It's a pace far slower than New York City but one that City Slicker can't get enough of this time of year.